


Apply Some Pressure

by agent_florida



Series: MPD Church [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Multiple Personalities, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_florida/pseuds/agent_florida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Church is broken. Church likes breaking things. Tucker is good at putting things back together. But no one said it would ever be easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apply Some Pressure

The little clock on Tucker’s nightstand flipped over from 11:59 to 12:00, and he sighed to himself as he turned over in his bed. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he grumbled to no one in particular. He couldn’t sleep; his bed felt too wide for him, and he felt cold, but he knew that it wasn’t the particular physical sensations that were bothering him tonight. No, it was that dull ache in his chest, the all-too-familiar sinking feeling that he might have been in love – might still be in love – with someone who didn’t have the capacity to love him back.  
  
A crash and a thud coming through the wall behind him made him sit up straight, startled out of his thoughts. It had come from Church’s room, and Tucker groaned to himself as he pulled on a pair of sweats and made his way to his teammate’s door. It was probably just another integration nightmare, but Wash had told him to keep an eye on Church as all the AI fragments tried to become more unified, just in case one of the more malignant personalities attempted to take over.  
  
As he opened the door, though, there was another crash and a thud, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass, as something hit the wall next to Tucker’s face and then landed on the ground. When he turned to look at what it was, he saw a broken picture frame face-down on the ground, the little shards of glass sparkling in the dim light of Church’s room. “What the hell, man?” Tucker asked.  
  
Church was standing, shirtless, with his back to Tucker. He had never realized that the implantation surgery they had used to get all the AI chips into one body had left so many scars along Church’s spine; they stood out, little angry welts that shifted when Church reached for another photo frame on the top of his wardrobe and flung it against a wall. “She left me!” he yelled out as it hit the wall, covering more of the floor with broken glass.  
  
Tucker hadn’t been expecting to play therapist tonight, but it was apparent that Church wasn’t going to sleep until he had worked through whatever aggression was making him want to break things. Normally he walked on eggshells around his teammate, hoping to let him have his space as he worked through integrating his multiple personalities together. Tonight, though, he was lost. The rage Tucker saw in him as he broke another frame might have been terrifying if it weren’t so desperate and impotent. “Church…” He didn’t know what to say, so he let the word hang there.  
  
“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it.” He was absolutely still; it was a sign that the personalities in his head were fighting. It had been rough for the first couple of weeks that all of them had shared this organic form, but Tucker thought the worst of it had been put behind them.  
  
Obviously, he had been wrong. “What’s going on?” he asked. He wanted to move towards Church, to hold him, to whisper in his ear that everything would be all right, but the broken glass on the floor was making him wary of getting any closer. It was like Church was trying to shut him out, to show him how broken he was in order to make him stay away.  
  
He could tell Church wanted to move, to turn towards him and speak, but his body didn’t seem to be under his control – or not under the Alpha’s control, anyway. The rigid posture of his spine was Delta, the clenched fist and tightened muscles of his right arm Omega’s rage, his limp left arm and open hand Epsilon’s learned helplessness. Tucker stepped cautiously forward, hoping that he was missing any glass, and saw that Church’s profile was set in an icon of loneliness. Beta had tipped his head back, making his Adam’s apple jut out from his throat, and his teeth were showing in an angry grimace, his eyes screwed shut in an effort to hide…  
  
Hide what? Tucker wanted to reach out, to touch Church, to let him know that he wasn’t bound to stand still just because he had other personalities trying to tell him what to do. But reaching out would mean choosing a place to touch, and he didn’t know who to appeal to. Delta was always hard to talk to; the downside of being logical was that he didn’t appreciate being lied to. Omega would probably just raise that clenched right hand and hit him across the face; Epsilon probably wouldn’t respond if Tucker slipped his fingers in-between the slack fingers of Church’s left hand. But Beta would know, would appreciate the touch, and so as Tucker circled around Church to get a better look at his face, he reached up with his left hand and gently brushed the hair away from his forehead, his fingertips barely grazing Church’s skin. “Talk to me,” Tucker asked gently, hoping he was getting through.  
  
Church let out a breath, a sigh that somehow seemed louder than his scream, and he repeated what he had said earlier, his words so filled with pain that Tucker actually felt them like cuts in his skin. “She left me.”  
  
Church’s eyes opened, and Tucker was surprised to see that they were absolutely dead. Filled with rage, with pain, with loneliness, and his eyes were emotionless… who was it that was inside this new skin? He tried not to think of how distinct all the other personalities had been before they had been moved into one body, but they had all originated from the same source, right? He moved his fingertips into Church’s scalp, feeling his shaggy black hair soft against his fingers. “She shouldn’t have,” he told his teammate, and once his hand reached the back of his head, he gently brought Church’s forehead to rest against his own bare shoulder.  
  
The room was quiet. The moment seemed frozen in time, crystalline for a brief moment, before Church exhaled slowly, the warmth of his breath a ghost against Tucker’s chest. “This hatred,” he said quietly, “it’s… consuming me, Omega’s too strong, I can’t…”  
  
“Yes, you can,” Tucker reminded him. “You have help now. Delta’s there. And Sigma.” Those were the two strongest AI besides the Alpha personality, but even so, Tucker wasn’t sure if all of them together, let alone one of them singly, could match up with the destructive, angry force that was Omega.  
  
“And you?” Tucker tried to ignore the way Church’s breath was exciting his nipples as he exhaled. “Are you going to be here?”  
  
“I’m here,” was all he needed to say. He reached down with his right hand to grab the hand that Epsilon was in charge of, and as he threaded his fingers between Church’s, Epsilon thankfully gripped back, almost so hard that it hurt.  
  
“What happens when you lose everything?” It was Epsilon’s voice, painfully self-aware and cognizant of its own fears.  
  
Tucker pulled on Church’s hair gently; he wanted to be able to look in Church’s eyes when he told him this. And eventually, he was staring into them, their ice blue still filled with Beta’s loneliness even though Tucker knew all of them were listening to what he had to say. “You just start again,” Tucker said, trying to keep it simple. “You start all over again.”  
  
“Can we really start over?” It was the Child’s voice, full of a brightness that sparked a small bit of hope in Tucker’s heart.  
  
“I know you can integrate,” Tucker said, stepping closer and bringing his hand down out of his hair to hold the side of Church’s face.  
  
“No, I meant you and I.” The Alpha was significantly more sarcastic, and Tucker heard the unsaid ‘dumbass’ at the end of his clipped sentence.  
  
Tucker had to think for a minute. He knew things could never go back to the way they were, back when it had first started in Blood Gulch. For one, it had just been the Alpha in that body. For two, it hadn’t just been Church that had changed over the years; Tucker was now a parent, and though he hadn’t been a particularly good father to his sprog, it had still made him even more fiercely protective of the people he loved. But Church was still looking at him for an answer, his eyes clearly full of Beta’s desperation. “Yeah,” Tucker said quietly. “Yeah, we can start over.”  
  
Church chuckled; to Tucker’s relief, it was Sigma’s laugh, a sound he hadn’t heard in a long time. “All right then.” It was the Alpha’s voice, speaking with Sigma’s speech patterns. “Hi. My name is Leonard Church and I’m completely fucked up.”  
  
Tucker’s heart went sideways in his chest. He had always figured that Church was handling everything so well without anyone’s help, but this was clearly a demand for intervention. “Hi,” he said softly. “My name is Lavernius Tucker and I don’t give a damn.” And he pulled Church’s head forward to plant what might have been the sweetest kiss he had ever given on his lips.  
  
Church didn’t fight it; or rather, Beta didn’t. Omega reached up Church’s right hand to grip hard on his shoulder, and Tucker knew there would be bruises there the next day shaped just like his fingertips. Church closed the space between their bodies, the tension in his back seeming to snap as Tucker just kissed him harder, logic giving way to something far more healing. Epsilon dug Church’s nails into Tucker’s hands, and a little moan came from Church’s throat (who was that speaking now?) as Tucker refused to break contact.  
  
Then, wonder of wonders, Church actually started kissing him back, and his hands on Tucker relaxed a little. Was he finally remembering the time they had spent together, those stolen moments in the middle of the night? He seemed to, because his hands now seemed to remember where to go, what to do. This, this was the Alpha, this was what Tucker had been hoping for, as Church dragged his fingertips down Tucker’s chest and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Tucker’s sweats.  
  
And maybe it had been just the admission of trust that Omega had been waiting for, because suddenly Church’s arms were pushing him back onto the bed. Tucker collapsed backwards, and then Church’s body was crawling over him, intentionally sexual, as if trying to goad him into something. Which personality was this? He might almost have believed it out of the Alpha if he hadn’t also been completely silent while he was doing it; usually he would have something demeaning or humiliating to say.  
  
But then their mouths met again, and Church was limp again in his arms as Tucker kissed him, over and over. Delta seemed to have completely lost control over Church’s back, and it was scaring Tucker to feel Church so wilted in his arms. “Delta,” he whispered between kisses. “Delta, it’s all right.” And he smoothed his hand down Church’s spine, trying to avoid hitting the implantation scars.  
  
But when Church pulled away, it was Delta in his eyes. “I am not sure this is the best course of action.”  
  
“Beta needed it,” Tucker pointed out. “And I was going to give it. Bow chicka-“  
  
But then it was Church’s right hand, the one Omega was still evidently controlling, that came up to grab his jaw and hold his mouth open so that he couldn’t speak. “With the fractured state of our minds, there is a greater than seventy percent chance that this...  _activity_  will not help us to integrate,” Delta pointed out, spitting out ‘activity’ as if he didn’t like how the word tasted in his mouth.  
  
Tucker brought up his hand to smooth Church’s face and tangle itself back in his hair, and Omega let go of his mouth. “Do you trust me?” The AI didn’t answer for a few long seconds. “Do you trust me, Dee?”  
  
“I would prefer if you did not call-“  
  
“Delta.” It shut him up for long enough that it allowed Tucker to get a word in edgewise. “You have to trust me on this. Beta and Epsilon need to know…” He couldn’t say the words; they choked his throat. He just hoped that Delta saw it in his eyes and could tell the other AI what he was feeling.  
  
And then his tongue was slipping back into Church’s mouth. It was strange; this new organic form was somehow able to taste almost identical to the original, and for a moment it was like Tucker could pretend that none of this had ever happened. That they were back on Blood Gulch, before Caboose, before O’Malley, before Junior, before Wash…  
  
He nestled closer to his teammate but found that his leg bumped up against a bulge in Church’s shorts. Church made some sort of mewling noise that Tucker had never heard from him before (who was it now?), and Omega once again reached out with his right hand to grab Tucker’s left hand and guide it down, under the waistband, and around Church’s half-hard cock. That self-satisfied chuckle coming from Church’s throat was definitely Omega. Tucker panicked for a moment, not sure whether to turn his wrist or switch hands; he was most definitely not good with his left hand, and he knew Church wanted this, needed this, badly.  
  
But when he tightened his hand and tested a stroke, Church worried his lip with his teeth, so he must have been doing something right. The head of his cock bumped up against the inside of his wrist with every slow pump of his fist, and a low hum started in Church’s throat. Tucker let Church fall out of the kiss, and he started breathing more heavily as Tucker stroked him and kissed his neck.  
  
He was letting out disoriented cries, each one subtly different from the last, and Tucker knew that as the pleasure was building up, the personality fragments inside Church were rotating, whirling ever faster, unsure of where their boundaries were now that they shared the same body. Delta’s modest panting morphed effortlessly into Beta’s quiet sobs, which changed into Epsilon’s pathetic cries, mutating once again into the Child’s giggles, calming into Sigma’s delighted chuckles, ending in Omega’s ruthless laughter before being picked up as Alpha’s full-bodied moans.  
  
And as Tucker brought him closer to completion, he rested his head in the nook between Tucker’s shoulder and his neck, biting down on Tucker’s collarbone to suppress the noise pouring from his mouth. “Come on, Leo, don’t hold out on me now,” he said, trying to stimulate him even more and push him over the edge. And with a somewhat surprised ‘oh!’, Church was coming, the pulse of his cock in Tucker’s hand a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be all right after all.  
  
They clutched onto each other like that for a few moments, Church’s breathing the only obvious sound in the room. Tucker wiped his hands on the sheets, then tried to roll out of Church’s bed; he had his own raging hard-on to take care of, and none of the personalities in Church was particularly equipped to do that for him right now. But as he tried to move away, Church’s arm came up to grab his bicep. From the grip he knew it wasn’t Omega or Epsilon, so for a moment he thought it might have been Beta before he clearly heard the Alpha say “Don’t – don’t leave.”  
  
“Dude, I have  _stuff_  to  _take care of_ ,” he said, trying hard not to point to his crotch.  
  
“I don’t care. Stay with me.” Only the Alpha could be that coldly selfish and get away with it, and he smiled up at Tucker with a shit-eating grin.  
  
Well, at least it had worked, Tucker thought to himself as he sidled back up to Church and brought his arms up around the other man to hold him close. It was clearly the Alpha shining through right now, and he let out a happy sigh at the thought that he had been able to quell those restless personalities in him. Maybe it was only going to hold for a day, or for a few hours, but they had the time and Tucker had the patience. “Happy Valentine’s day,” he mumbled into Church’s hair.  
  
“Don’t fucking remind me,” the other man grumbled against his chest.  
  
“Sorry, jeez,” Tucker said. He shifted to get more comfortable, his skin sliding against Church’s chest in a way that reminded him painfully of his still-hard cock. “’Night.”  
  
“What, are you going to say ‘I love you’ now, too?” There was an unsaid ‘pussy’ at the end of Church’s sentence.  
  
At least he didn’t have to say it for himself. “Whatever, dude.” And sometime between then and morning, they fell asleep, trying hard not to think about what would happen if this happened again.


End file.
